


A Recipe for Love

by nihonlove



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Age Difference, Alpha Castiel, Alpha Castiel/Omega Dean Winchester, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Castiel is Nine Years Older than Dean, Chef Castiel, Chef Dean, Dead Mary Winchester, Dean is a Sweetheart, Implied Mpreg, John Winchester Being an Asshole, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, Minor Charlie Bradbury/Jo Harvelle, Omega Dean, Past John Winchester/Mary Winchester, Protective Castiel, Shy Dean, Verbal Abuse, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-27
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-12 16:51:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9081187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nihonlove/pseuds/nihonlove
Summary: At only 33, Castiel Novak had everything he had ever wanted. A restaurant chain of his own, two Michelin stars and a reality TV show he stars in with his best friend. The only thing that seems to be missing is someone to share all of it with, a mate to spend the rest of his life with. However, perhaps that will change with the filming of the newest episode for his show Diner Disasters, which will take him to Kansas to help out a struggling diner called Mary’s…Or: The Kitchen Nightmares AU, where Cas is pseudo-Gordon Ramsay and Dean is the son of the owner of a failing restaurant.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This work is part of the SPN ABO Big Bang. I hope everyone enjoys it!

Castiel Novak had known what he wanted to be when he grew up since he was young.

He had been been fortunate (or in some ways, unfortunate) enough to be born with a silver spoon in his mouth, being the youngest spawn of the wealthy Novak family. And that silver spoon had almost always been serving him the most amazing food money could buy; food from various backgrounds and cooked by the most talented hands to be found on this side of North America.

Castiel had also learned the comfort food could bring to people when his father, with what average skill he had in the kitchen, insisted on making his chicken noodle soup himself whenever Castiel or any of his brothers got sick. Despite it being a very humble bowl of soup, it was one of the best memories Cas had associated with food. It had also been one of the first things he ever cooked, when his father’s health began to weaken and little ten-year-old Castiel had tried to help by making him a bowl of his own.

His father’s health returned to him, slowly, and although Castiel had known that likely the chicken soup hadn’t been what had cured him, his father’s smile at seeing it, the way he had ruffled Castiel’s dark hair and said, “You’re my little chef, aren’t you Cas?”, had stuck with Castiel. From then on, he had known that was exactly what he wanted to be. A chef. And every decision he made in life afterwards was made with that goal in mind.

His family was full of ambition, and becoming a famous chef was a very ambitious dream, so that was one of the few things in life where Castiel gained support in from them. His family’s connections allowed him to talk to the best in the food business from an early age on, to make connections at parties and at dinners, to meet chefs that cooked for his family in restaurants and to taste every sort of food there was. In summers, he travelled across Europe and Asia to sample the various cuisines they had to offer. To keep him from losing his health and physique, Castiel took up running and cross-country biking. By the time he entered high school, he was the star of the cross-country team of his private school.

His presentation as an Alpha at 14 came as surprise to no one, as anyone who knew about his ambition and true temper said they could tell he was one right away. His skills in the kitchen, his athleticism, his wealth and admittedly good looks quickly got him his fair share of admirers, but Castiel wasn’t much interested in dating in high school. He figured he’d have plenty of time for that later, once he had accomplished everything he dreamed of.

When he graduated, Castiel applied to every good culinary school he could find, and was accepted to the prestigious Institute of Culinary Education in his hometown of New York. Although he had been offered other positions at multiple different schools as well, the news of his father’s relapsing cancer made the decision to stay close to his family easy.

Castiel studied as hard as he could and learned as much as he could, while still making connections at parties and events at night. He studied both culinary arts and management, knowing what he wanted more than anything was to open his own restaurant. His second dream was that that restaurant would gain a Michelin star.

Castiel’s father lived just long enough to see him graduate.

Chuck Novak went peacefully, and he had enough time to get his affairs in order and to say his goodbyes to his family. To Castiel, he said, “Don’t let me leaving you stop you, Cas. I know you’ll have the most amazing life, and will find everything you dream of. But I want you to promise me something, okay?” Castiel had nodded, hardly being able to hold back tears as he held his father’s thin, pale hand. “Don’t go through life alone. Money, success...you’ll find they mean nothing if you’re all alone in the world. What good is a dream if there’s no one to share it with? So, Cas, please...don’t be alone.”

“Do you want me to find a mate? Have a family?” Cas queried softly from his father.

“Only if you want to. And don’t do that just to please me; do it because you’ve met someone you want to spend the rest of your life and have a family with.” Chuck said. “But…at least make friends. Go out once in a while just for the sake of going out and having a good time. Don’t let your ambition be the only thing in life that defines you, Cas.”

“I promise, Dad,” Cas vowed, giving his father’s hand a kiss. “Get some rest now.”

Still, despite his promise, Castiel for the first months after his father’s death lived in a type of haze. He got a good starting job at a restaurant specialising in French food right out of culinary school, but all he seemed to do in his life was go to work, eat, watch bad TV and sleep. He didn’t even go to events even to make connections anymore, not wanting to pretend to be polite even for a night. Even his job didn’t feel the way he thought it would. The work was hard and his boss was strict, not to mention kind of an asshole. The man was a great chef, no doubt about that, but the way he treated his wait staff was deplorable to Castiel, and he swore he would do better once he had his own restaurant.

However, this job wasn’t a total loss because it was what had led him to meeting Charlie.

Charlie Bradbury had been a waitress at the restaurant Castiel worked at, a very bubbly and cheerful girl who even managed to make Castiel smile with her references and jokes once in a while, even if the two of them didn’t really talk all that much or hang out outside of work.

That changed when Castiel caught their boss harassing Charlie, and decided to step in. All his frustration and sorrow from the past months seemed to build up within him and he ended up punching the asshole in the face. It cost both him and Charlie their jobs, but led to Castiel making a friend, despite Charlie reassuring him that she “could’ve handled some knothead Alpha who thinks he’s greater than he is. But you know, thanks anyway.”

It was much thanks to Charlie that Castiel finally started to come out of his haze and shell. He finally had someone to talk to about his grief and how much he missed his father, and Charlie would always listen. It was easier to talk to her than Castiel’s family, who were all either grieving in their own right or wanted to ignore the whole issue. Because Castiel had an extra bedroom in his apartment and Charlie was currently living in a crowded and tiny apartment, they eventually also became roommates. Castiel’s previously-made connections also paid off, because he was quickly able to find another, better job and even recommend Charlie to work there as well. She doubled as a waitress and a bartender while doing her degree in business management and computer technology.

Castiel worked at that job for a few years, learning everything he could under his new boss. He still spent his vacations around the world, learning more, but this time around he tended to have a companion in Charlie on his food travels. A companion that made sure he also had fun seeing the world and got experiences other than just culinary ones once in a while.

Finally, Castiel felt like it was time to realise his own dream and open his own restaurant. He had learnt all that he good while working in the business, and he was ready. He tapped into his trust fund to get started, to find and buy a suitable space, beginning to dot down ideas for a menu. Charlie, who had graduated by then as well, was his first hire as his financial manager.

The restaurant, once properly opened, turned out to be a huge success, and Castiel opened more of them, first around North America and then across the world. The day Castiel gained his first Michelin star, 18 months into the opening of his first restaurant, was the proudest moment of his life since the opening of the restaurant. It was after a year after that, that to his surprise and joy, he gained his second Michelin star.

In the meantime, Castiel had managed to gain people around himself. He understood well enough that his social circle was always going to be relatively small, but he’d stayed true to the promise he’d made to his father. He wasn’t alone anymore. There was Anna, whom Castiel had met at his old job, and her girlfriend Ruby. There was Balthazar, who had started as a business contact, but had become a genuine friend. And there was Hannah, with whom Castiel had been set up on a blind date, but with whom they had quickly mutually decided they were much better off as friends.

Indeed, Castiel went on dates as well once in a while, but they rarely led into anything permanent. His longest relationship so far had been six months. There wasn’t anything really wrong with most of his dates, but in the end they just didn’t feel right, or like the person Castiel would want to spend the rest of his life with like his father had wanted him to. So for the most part, Castiel tended to just focus on his career and his friends.

A surprising new twist into his life came almost by accident. Hannah had clearly been having something on her mind lately, and Castiel had done his best to find out what so he could comfort his friend. It turned out Hannah’s sister and her husband’s restaurant was about to go bankrupt and they couldn’t seem to figure out why. Somehow, the conversation had ended with Castiel promising to go and take a look at the place, seeing as it was in New York and he knew more than his share about how to run a restaurant. Charlie and Hannah joined him, and Charlie brought along a handycam to vlog the event for the amusement of herself and their group of friends.

The task of helping someone get their restaurant back on track turned out to be a lot more challenging than Castiel ever could’ve imagined. Usually, when something wasn’t working out with a business, there was a reason for it. Sometimes, as he would later learn, it would fall on circumstances such as poor advertisement, economic recession or just desolate location, but often, the reason could be found on the inside of the place. The food at the restaurant very soggy and bland when Castiel finally received it, the decoration was bad and the owner, Hannah’s sister Hael’s mate, Bartholomew, was one of the cockiest bastards Castiel had ever had the displeasure of meeting. He quickly got the best of Castiel’s temper, especially when Castiel had specifically been asked to come and help, and Bart just wasn’t listening to anything he said.

In the end, Castiel had given Hael and Bart all the tools he had to help them. He had created them a new menu, had helped them organise a better dinner service for them. He didn’t much feel like watching the vlog Charlie had made of the events, feeling tired and frustrated just thinking about it. But he’d agreed when Charlie had asked if she could post it on her YouTube account.

That was the beginning of a new chapter in Castiel’s life.

The video became a huge hit online, apparently, and people began sending in letters to Charlie, who unlike Castiel, had a Facebook account. Many of them were pleas for help, asking Castiel to come to their restaurant to help fix everything and figure out why they weren’t making any money. Castiel still wasn’t sure exactly how he’d become roped up into all of this, but Charlie’s enthusiasm and puppy dog eyes might have had something to do with it. Looking over some of the more interesting and touching letters Charlie had printed out for him, he also thought of his father. Life was stable for him at the moment. At 30, Castiel had pretty much accomplished his one real dream and goal. He was relatively happy with his life, and could now afford to even leave the restaurant to his sous chefs once in a while, to take advantage of being the boss.

He glanced at the framed picture of his father that he kept on his nightstand. It had been taken just before his second diagnosis, before the illness had taken away all his strength and joy. Castiel had a good life, the kind of life he believed his father would’ve wanted him to lead. But on the lonely nights, lying in his bed, he sometimes felt like something was missing. Felt somewhat hollow. He had friends, yes, but as he grew older he was beginning to long for something, someone more. A real life partner, someone to share the rest of his existence with. To have a family with. He found himself longing for that.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t been trying to find someone. He’d gone out on plenty of dates, both blind ones and with people he met on his own, but they never felt quite right or suitable. Some of them, like Hannah, he remained in good terms with and even friends with, but he couldn’t imagine having them as a mate. Perhaps what he was looking for just wasn’t in New York. Maybe he needed to get away more, see a bit more of the country to find the right one for him. This gig could help him with that.

Of course, because it had been her idea in the first place, and because Cas didn’t even want to do this as much without his best friend by his side, he asked Charlie to come along with him to do this. She, of course, agreed gleefully, though not without slightly rubbing in the fact that slightly that he was just a big softie deep down. She also insisted on making it all into a TV show. Castiel was hesitant at first, but Charlie talked him into it, much as she talked him into doing the project in the first place. Charlie always had means to get what she wanted out of anyone. And Castiel had to admit that a reality show would be good publicity, both for the failing restaurants if they managed to put them back on the right track, and for Castiel himself. Business was booming at his restaurant still, but you could never be too careful.

Charlie quickly took over everything when it came to this project, throwing herself into it wholeheartedly, much as she did everything else in life. Castiel had to hire someone else in her place at the restaurant, while making sure everything would run smoothly the times he’d be away. Charlie managed to pitch the idea of the show to Fox Network, to get them a budget and a crew. Castiel didn’t quite know how she’d managed that, but had learned by now that if Charlie didn’t tell you something right upfront, it was better not to ask.

And so,  _ Diner Disasters _ was born.

After some discussion on the format of the show and how everything would go down, a pilot episode was filmed in New Jersey, setting the model for the future episodes. For now, they would be getting 10 of them, more if the show became a success. Charlie picked out the people they would go help with a few assistants. But Charlie was always the one who would eventually bring the chosen letter to Castiel. She turned out to have quite the knack for picking up those that would create the juiciest, most heartwarming or interesting stories for episodes.

The show became a hit, and they got more episodes to film, more restaurants to help out. The show took Castiel all across the country, and he honestly felt good helping these struggling people. He met many types of restaurant owners and chefs, some of them more stubborn even than Bartholomew had been, but he liked to think he was able to make something of a difference in their lives, create a new sense of hope for them. Some of the places he helped ended up shutting down anyway, for one reason or another, but even amongst those there were at least people whose debt had decreased with the profits they had made since his arrival.

He still didn’t find that special someone though. But his life was interesting in a whole new level now, and he was enjoying it in a new way. One of the best parts of making the show was to be able to do it with Charlie, to spend more time with her again. They were seeing the world again together, like they had done in their 20s.

They were currently on their summer break, waiting to start filming the newest season. Charlie had been going through the letters they’d received little by little for about a week, when she came to Castiel with a printed out one.

“I think I found the starting episode for the next season,” she said, holding the paper out to him. “Read it.”

Castiel did:

_ “Best Chef Novak, _

_ My name is Dean Winchester. I’m 24 years old and I live in Lawrence, Kansas. My father owns a diner called Mary’s, where I work as a waiter and a pastry chef. Once upon a time, this place was a huge success and we had people coming in from all around to eat here. However, that all changed when my mother, Mary, who was the original chef and owner of the place, passed away suddenly three years ago.” _

Castiel blinked. Despite himself, his heart went to this family and this young man right away, still remembering the loss of his father.

_ “My Dad took over after Mom died, likely to be close to her or to find some kind of meaning back into his life. But he’s no chef and the place suffers for it. He won’t listen to anything anyone says, least of all me, and if this keeps up, we’ll lose everything. I don’t want to lose the place my Mom cherished so much when she was alive. I don’t really want all of the world to see the state of our family, but I know you’re the only one who can save us. I wouldn’t be asking if we didn’t really need help. My Dad doesn’t even know I’m sending this out. _

_ Please, help us. Otherwise, I know things will keep on going the way they are now, and eventually we’ll go bankrupt. I can’t make my Dad see reason. I know if you can’t, then no one can. You’re our last hope. _

_ Sincerely, _

_ Dean Winchester” _

Castiel leafed through the letter a few more times with his eyes. It was simple, but sincere. It didn’t tell anything more than it needed, but he could still feel the desperation radiating from it. He couldn’t imagine how this Dean Winchester had to be feeling, to be ignored by his own father after already losing his mother, even when they were about to lose one of the most important reminders of her.

He finally looked up at Charlie. “Looks like we're going to Kansas.”

Charlie grinned. “I’ll let the big wigs know.”


	2. Chapter one

It was early autumn when they arrived in Lawrence, Kansas, with the filming crew in tow. They’d naturally been in touch with the Winchester family through email, letting them know they’d be coming and informing the current owner, John, that his son Dean had reached out for help. John hadn’t been in correspondence with them, but Dean had reassured them he would receive them and give them the best possible treatment, and that John, although he was perhaps blind to the reasons the business was failing, wasn’t any more eager to actually lose the place than Dean was. And he could only shut his eyes to the very real financial problems they were experiencing so long.

Mary’s turned out to be a medium sized building, its exterior made almost entirely out of steel. Castiel imagined in its heyday it had probably looked inviting and caught everyone’s eye, but now the paintjob was falling apart and the steel was rusting and turning dark. It gave the place a sad, dreary look right from the beginning. Even the flashy sign that had once had light on it that stated the place’s name had been turned off. It looked almost as though the place was already closed, or ready to be.

The indoors, where he stepped slowly with the crew behind him, at first glance looked much better. A bell rang above the door when they stepped in. The place was full of light and old-timely inviting feeling, with a hint of nostalgia to it. The walls were a light brown earthy color, while the chairs at both the booths and smaller tables were bright red. The tables were white. There was a long counter around which people could also sit on red stools, and by the cash register was a glass case, where half a dozen delicious-looking pies were resting and waiting to be bought and served.

What wasn’t so charming was the smell of the place. It was stale, old and uninviting. Where the air should’ve been filled with delicious smells of the kitchen, there was just something resembling burned grease hanging around them. Castiel was describing this to the camera, when a whole new scent filled the air, alongside the sound of hurried steps. The smell of freshly-baked apple pie floated into Castiel’s nose, and he felt his mouth water as a result. He expected to see someone carrying a fresh pie when he turned to look, but that wasn’t what he saw.

Instead, he came face-to-face with the most beautiful man he had ever laid eyes on. He was young, younger than Castiel by likely several years, but definitely out of his teens. He was tall, with a somewhat slender build, a strong jaw that still retained a bit of youthful fat to it and full, heart-shaped lips that looked incredibly soft and were a vibrant dark pink color. His nose was a bit crooked but in a way that seemed to just add to his character, his hair cut short and spiky, a shade of dark blond or light brown. And his eyes…God, his eyes were big and wide, with the longest, thickest and darkest eyelashes Castiel had ever witnessed. They were the color of fresh Granny Smith apples.

It didn’t take Castiel long to realize that this beautiful man in front of him was the source of the delicious, inviting smell, the best Castiel had ever come across, along with being the most amazing human being his eyes had ever viewed. His sweet smell told Castiel he was an Omega, a fairly young one at that, unmated and at the peak of his fertility.

The Omega’s eyes were wide with surprise, his cheeks flushed in an adorable way and his breaths a bit quick and heavy. It made him look even more attractive, and Castiel had to gulp to try and keep his head on straight. Because he quickly realized the young man was wearing a waiter’s black apron along with a red-and-white striped flannel shirt that seemed to be the uniform to this place.

“Oh my gosh…!” The young man gasped, stopping a few feet away from Castiel, Charlie and their crew. “You’re…you’re really here,” he said, sounding breathless. Castiel had to struggle to try and keep from staring at his beautiful face, to stop himself from imagining that gaspy voice in a far more intimate situation. He was here to help, he needed to be professional. The last thing he wanted was to make this lovely young man uncomfortable.

“Hi!” Charlie greeted him cheerfully, taking a grip of the situation while Castiel was still a little otherwise preoccupied. She stepped forward, offering the young man her hand. “I’m Charlie!”

“Hey,” he said, taking her hand and shaking it. “I’m Dean. We’ve emailed a few times, I think?”

Castiel blinked.  _ This _ was Dean? The owner’s son? How come he hadn’t known that he would be this lovely? Had Charlie been aware? Knowing her, she had been, and had kept it a secret just to mess with Castiel, the troll.

“This is Cas,” Charlie said, jabbing Castiel in the ribs with her elbow, bringing him out of his thoughts finally, and starting to focus on the matter at hand. “We’re here to help.”

Dean seemed to hesitate a bit, offering Castiel his hand, his movements slow and his eyes wandering every which direction. However, when Castiel took his hand, the grip on his own was firm and strong. Castiel also swore he could feel some kind of an electric current run between them as their hands touched.

“Chef Novak, I can’t thank you enough for coming here,” Dean said, now looking straight into Castiel’s eyes.

“It is what we do. Your letter was very moving,” Castiel said. “And please, call me Castiel.”

“O-okay,” Dean stammered, a light flush once growing across his cheeks. Castiel now perceived that this made his freckles stand out. Castiel had to gulp again, his throat suddenly dry at the sight. “Should I get my Dad? He’s in the kitchen.”

“Sure, I’d like to meet him.” Castiel nodded.

“Okay, I’ll be right back,” Dean said, and only then let go of Castiel’s hand, heading back behind the counter and in from the flipping door at the wall behind it where he’d come from.

“Cas!” Charlie hissed right after Dean was gone. “What was that? I don’t think I’ve seen you lose your composure like that with anyone!"

“It’s your fault,” Castiel hissed back. “You didn’t tell me he would be this beautiful.”

“I didn’t know, I swear! We’ve only emailed, and we haven’t exchanged pictures or anything! Also: you think he’s beautiful? Again, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you use that word about any human being, aside maybe your nieces and nephews. But regardless, not any adult human being.”

Castiel was saved from answering when Dean returned with a heavily-built man dressed in a chef’s jacket and a white apron in tow. The man must be Dean’s father, although at first glance it was difficult to see any resemblance between the two of them. John Winchester was tall like his son, but his eyes and hair were both dark (aside from a little grey beginning to settle in the latter), his face mostly covered in a beard of the same color as his hair. There was also something sluggish about the way he walked, like he was tired or didn’t see the whole point to it, whereas his son seemed to move quickly and with a cat-like grace. He smelled of burnt dinner that was enjoyed alongside whiskey. He was an Alpha, but there was something very defeated about him. A death of one’s mate would do that to a man, Castiel imagined.

“You must be John, the owner?” Castiel queried, offering the other Alpha his hand to shake.

“That’s me,” John said, his voice as heavy as his whole being as he shook Castiel’s hand. His grip was almost overtly-firm, and Castiel got the impression John maybe wanted to crush his hand just a little. “I appreciate you coming all this way to our humble place. I’m sure you must have better stuff to do with your time.”

“Not at all,” Castiel reassured him. “Now, first of all, could you tell me a little bit more about this place? The history of it all?”

John shrugged. “Inherited it from my wife. She passed away in a car accident about three years ago.”

Castiel nodded. “I heard of that. I’m sorry for your loss.”

John shook his head. “Mary had owned the place for a good 15 years when she died. People came from all over just to eat here; she was famous for her food. Everyone said eating here took them back to their childhoods and to their mothers’ kitchens. She specialized in home-style and classic American cooking,” John said. “Didn’t feel right to let the place fall apart when she passed, when it had meant so much to her. I thought I could make it work, but…” He gestured around himself, to the very empty diner. “As you can see, something just isn’t working. Since Mary’s been gone, we’ve gradually been losing people and we’re losing profit too.”

Castiel nodded. “Don’t worry, we’ll get to the bottom of this. First things first, I am quite eager to taste the food. So I’ll let you get back into your kitchen, and we’ll grab a table, if Dean,” he glanced at the young man, “could bring us the menus?”

“Of course,” Dean nodded, and John made some type of grunting noise at the back of his throat, heading back towards the kitchen. A part of the TV crew followed him there with the smaller cameras to film his process and how he would react to what Castiel would have to say about the food.

Castiel and Charlie settled down at one of the booths near the windows, and Dean quickly arrived with the menus for them.

“Here you are,” he said, smiling politely as he handed over the menus. Then, he grimaced. “I apologize in advance.”

“Well, that doesn’t sound promising,” Castiel said, rubbing his chin. The menu at least wasn’t very huge. It was actually quite simple, indeed following the pattern of classic American food, geared especially towards home cooking. He turned to speak to Dean, “Is this the original menu?”

“Yeah, it’s the one my Mom designed,” Dean replied. “Anything catching your eye, or should I come back later?”

“You can stay,” Castiel gently told him, secretly hoping to make Dean remain as long as he could keep him. Dean was the nicest thing to both look at and smell in this place. “I’ll start out with the mac&cheese, followed by the chicken sandwich and I think I’ll finish off with the meatloaf.”

“All right,” Dean said, writing it down on his notepad. He turned to Charlie. “Can I get you anything else?”

Charlie shrugged. “We’ll taste together. But I’d love a piece of one of those pies in there,” she pointed to the glass case.

“Sure, I’ll bring that as dessert for you guys,” Dean said with a smile, gathering the menus back into his arms. “I’ll be right back with your orders.”

Once he had once again disappeared to the kitchen, Charlie leaned over the table to hiss at Castiel, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look at a human being like that. The way you look at him is the same as when you look at food!”

“That’s not true,” Castiel insisted, even if it was weak.

“That’s it. As your best friend, I’m calling it now: that’s the guy you’re going to mate. And you’ll probably have a spring wedding and afterwards those five children you’ve always wanted.”

Castiel couldn’t help the blush creeping on his cheeks. “You’re mistaken, I assure you.” Even though secretly he was trying to remember when he’d told Charlie the exact number of pups he’d like to have.

“Nope,” Charlie grinned. “I’ve always known that if you could find someone you would look the same way as you look at food, someone you could be as passionate about as you are about food, that would be a done deal. I’ve known you for 10 years and I’ve never seen you look at anyone like that. So yeah, calling it now, you’re going to marry that pretty young thing and I’ll be sure to remind you that I called it when I give the toast at your wedding. And I’ll keep on reminding you of it with the birth of each of your five pups.”

“Oh, shut up,” Castiel grumbled, and refused to engage Charlie any longer while they waited for their food to arrive. Instead, he began to take a closer look at the booth they were in. He saw the seat covers of the booths had broken at points, making the stuffing start to stick out. The chairs clearly hadn’t been renovated or changed in a while. And although everything looked clean, the paint was beginning to peel of off some of the chairs in the small tables. It gave the place the type of feeling that it hadn’t been looked after properly, and made for a more uninviting air. He commented this to the camera.

Also, despite Dean’s promises, it took a good while for the food to actually arrive. It was half an hour before Dean arrived carrying their mac&cheese.

“Sorry about the wait,” he said, setting the dish served in a ceramic bowl and steaming on the table between the two friends.

“How come it took so long when we’re the only customers?” Cas asked.

“Being fast in the kitchen isn’t Dad’s forte, I’m afraid.” Dean said apologetically, heading a bit further off to give them privacy to eat.

“Well, I hope at least the food is worth it.” Castiel said, beginning to poke into the mac&cheese. The cheese was all gooey and the macaroni felt soft. He cautiously took a bite. “It’s very bland. I can’t taste anything except the grease. The macaroni is mushy, too. And it’s just sort of swimming in the grease.”

“You’re right,” Charlie admitted around her own bite.

“A classic American diner, and it can’t even get something as simple and traditional as a mac&cheese right.”

Dean approached them. “I take it wasn’t to your liking?”

“Not really, no,” Castiel said, letting him know everything that was wrong with the dish once again. “I don’t think I’m going to be able to finish this.”

“I’m sorry,” Dean said, and really sounded it too. “I did warn you though.”

“You did. And it’s not your fault.” Castiel smiled gently at him. “I’m here to fix what’s wrong; for that I need to see all the problems.”

Dean nodded, picking up the mach&cheese on his tray again. “I’ll be back with your other food as soon as I can.”

“Please do,” Castiel said.

“He really isn’t blind to what is happening here,” Charlie said. “I got that from his emails alone. It’ll be useful. I think we can trust him to be truthful, even when it’s not easy.”

Castiel nodded. “I think so too.”

“So…” Charlie’s grin turned sly, and she wiggled her eyebrows. “I think you should talk to him, one-on-one. I think it’d be best if his Dad wasn’t around either. From what I’ve gathered, the kid doesn’t want to hurt his feelings, even though the old man really needs to get a clue.”

Castiel blushed, leaning back in his seat, crossing his arms and huffing out an annoyed breath. “You need to get your head out of the gutter.”

“No, I’m serious,” Charlie insisted, manic gleam in her eyes as she leaned forward as if to follow Castiel. “He hasn’t spoken that much about himself in the emails, just the business, but I think he’s got some sort of culinary training and his Mom passed down some of what she knew as well. And you can tell he loves this place. He could be the key to all of this. You should test him out; you always know how to pick out and nourish talent like that.”

Before Castiel could answer, Dean returned again, this time with the chicken sandwich. Charlie and Castiel cut it in half and both tasted their shares.

“The chicken is very dry,” Castiel said, coughing around the tightness it had left in his throat. “And once again, very bland.” He set the half-eaten sandwich on the table, taking off the bread hat. “Look at the salad.” He held up a piece of the lettuce inside. “It’s all floppy and dry. And I’'s just soaked in sauce, taking it away from the rest of this sandwich.” He looked up to Dean to talk to him. “How old is this salad, do you know?”

“I’m not sure, but I know it’s not fresh.”

“Oh God,” Castiel groaned, looking over at the tomato and the onions. “The same can be said for the rest of it as well. The tomato is all dry and wrinkled, and the onions stink.” He took the plate, handing it back to Dean. “Take it back before one of us gets a food poisoning.”

“Yeah, better do that. I’m really sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Castiel said gently, as Dean disappeared to the kitchen.

Charlie grinned. “You’re so smitten!”

“Don’t be ridiculous, I’m always nice to waiters.” Which was true enough, but Castiel had to admit that he had never taken such an interest in one before.

Dean returned soon enough with the meatloaf, served with some potato slices.

“All right, let’s see what we’ve got here this time around,” Castiel said as he dug into the food. As he stuck his utensils into it, grease poured down on his plate. “Oh no, not a good sign,” he mumbled, shaking his head as he took a bite. “I can’t taste anything except the grease and the onions. The onions are particularly strong.” He ran the potatoes around the plate. “These don’t look fresh. Were they frozen?”

“Yeah,” Dean answered apologetically. “Dad buys them in bags and then just warms them up.”

“Jesus,” Castiel huffed, tasting them. “They taste about as good as can be expected; bland and dry.” He looked up at Dean. “Please, just bring us the pie. Afterwards, please ask your father to come out here, and we’ll all talk.”

Dean looked vaguely uncomfortable, his shoulders tensing and his face paling. But before Castiel could ask, Dean said, “All right,” and went back to the kitchen. He then took a slice of the pie from the glass case, warmed it up in a microwave and brought it over with a generous helping of vanilla ice cream on top. It was an apple pie, and it smelled and looked delicious. It had the same smell that clung to Dean and that invited Castiel in.

“I hope you enjoy it,” Dean said, retreating behind the counter. Castiel could tell he was trying to make himself look busy, but he kept giving nervous glances in their direction, until he realized Castiel was seeing all this happen and turned away properly.

Castiel began to poke around the pie. The crust seemed thick and crunchy, the apples inside smelled fresh and wonderful. He and Charlie both took bites with their spoons, making sure to scoop up some of the ice cream as well. And as soon as Castiel put his piece in his mouth, a world of flavor seemed to explode against his tongue. The apples were perfectly seasoned to be just sweet enough, but also crisp in a perfect autumn fashion. Their flavor and heat contrasted beautifully with the soft sweetness and coldness of the ice cream. There was a hint of cinnamon to the flavor, and the crust was both moist and crunchy.

It was one of the best apple pies Castiel had ever tasted in his life.

“Oh my God,” Charlie moaned around her own bite. “This pie is incredible.” She went for a second bite.

“Hey, swallow before you choke,” Castiel said, concerned, but also determined to keep as much of the pie to himself as possible. He also took a second bite.

“Hey, Dean!” Charlie called, having swallowed. “Could we have another slice of this? I don’t think we’re capable of sharing the one.”

Dean looked over at them, and a lovely hue of red came across his cheeks. There was also a glow to his eyes that made Castiel’s mouth dry, and quickly his lips spread into a smile that made his heart jump. Dean gained little happy crinkles at the corners of his eyes when he smiled.

“Coming right up,” Dean said, firing up another piece of pie, while Castiel and Charlie fought over the rest of the first slice.

When Dean arrived with the second slice, Castiel stopped him from leaving as Charlie eagerly tucked into the pie. “Dean, I have to ask. Who made that pie? Because I don’t think it was your father, unless he’s a horrible cook and an excellent baker.”

“Oh, um…” Dean said, and a nervous blush came across his cheeks again. He shuffled from one foot to the other, fidgeting with his fingers. “Actually, uh…I made it. Just this morning.”

Castiel blinked, his eyes widening. “You made it?”

“Yeah…I’m sure I mentioned I was the pastry chef here?”

Castiel recalled the letter Dean had sent in. “You’re right, you did. You just…you didn’t say anything when we got here, and your father didn’t either, so…”

Dean shrugged. “We don’t talk about it that much. But I like to bake anyway, so we thought, why not sell them on the side and as dessert, like my Mom did?” He grinned sheepishly.

“And do they sell? Because they should,” Castiel said, his tone very low and serious, looking Dean straight in the eye, trying to figure out what was going on in this young man’s mind. His gut was telling him Dean wasn’t being entirely honest, or was afraid he’d say something wrong. Maybe Charlie was right and Castiel needed to talk to him alone and in private.

Dean shrugged again, his blush deepening. “Truth of the matter is…sometimes they’re the only things we sell. It helps at least a little, so I’m grateful for that.”

Castiel nodded. “I see,” he said, musing it over. “Let us finish enjoying this, then please ask you father here.”

Dean nodded as well. “Okay.” He turned to leave, but stopped in the middle of step. He turned around, fidgeting. “Maybe don’t…mention to him I said the pies are sometimes the only thing that sells here.”

“Isn’t it true?” Castiel asked.

“It might be but…” Dean sighed. “It’s a sore spot for him.”

Castiel nodded. “I understand,” he said. “But you do understand I need to be honest with your father, with all of you, for this to work. He really needs to open his eyes to everything that is going on here. That is the only way this is ever going to work.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Dean said, averting his eyes. “Just…don’t rub it in at least, please?”

“I’ll do what I can,” Castiel smiled, before going back to his pie.

Once he and Charlie were finished with eating, Dean quickly went to get his father and returned to the main diner with him. Charlie moved to sit on one side of the booth with Castiel so John and Dean could sit on the other side. But to Castiel’s surprise, John took the whole side of the booth to himself while Dean went to get an extra chair for himself from one of the smaller tables. He sat down in it at the shorter side of the table, his shoulders hunched and his knees held together. It looked almost like he was trying to make himself as small and invisible as possible. Castiel also noticed that John was watching him do this with intent eyes, and nodded to himself once Dean was seated.

Castiel had a bad feeling about this already.

But there was work to be done, so he opened his mouth and said, “I’m going to be straight-up blunt with you: the food here is crap.” John just blinked, not reacting otherwise as far as could be seen. But Castiel could tell there was more fire of anger burning in his scent. “Everything is bland, some of it is frozen and old. But nothing tastes good or inspiring. That is, other than the pie.” He gave a small glance towards Dean. All he could smell from Dean was anxiety, and he had put his head down, staring at his shoes. “The apple pie was excellent. It was clearly made with love and effort, like someone was making love to the pastry with their hands as they made it. It was more what classic American homecooking should taste like, what people expect when they come to eat at a place like this.”

John just kept staring at him. Then he glanced over at Dean. “You sold him pie?” Dean didn’t say anything, just kept still.

John looked calm to the outside, but his arms were crossed, his scent was bitter and his dark eyes were aflame. “Are you finished?” he asked Castiel

“Not quite,” Castiel said. “Not only was the food bad, it took a long time for it to arrive. The outside of the place is dirty and uninviting, and while the inside is better, it is in many ways old.”

“What do you expect us to do about it? Everything we own, we’ve had to put into this place, and it’s still not enough apparently,” John snapped.

“Could you tell me more about that? How much are you in debt?”

“The business is old, so much of the debt related to it was paid off, but we’re barely making any profit and the produce still costs money, so…” John shrugged. “We had to lay off most of our staff. We sold our house, and we now live in a small two-bedroom apartment.” And then, for the first time, he seemed overcome with some genuine emotion, his eyes gleaming with sorrow. “All of it to keep this place that my Mary so cherished, to have at least that final piece left of her.”

Castiel felt himself mellow out slightly. “Well, I’m here to help you do just that. But you need to be willing to listen, to change, for me to be able to do that for you.” He began to rise from his seat. “We’ll be back later for dinner service, to see what happens on an average night here. You have our numbers if you need anything before that.”

John nodded. “All right. I need to talk to my son alone anyway.” Castiel was fairly certain he didn’t imagine the flinch Dean attempted to hide as John said this, looking over at him. And he definitely wasn't imagining the way Dean was now tense as a flagpole.

“Actually,” Castiel began. “I would also like to talk to Dean. I’m afraid it might take some time, so I’d like to take him with us to the hotel.”

“What?” John gasped. “You can’t take him, he’s my only waiter!”

“Then I guess we’ll stay here. Although from the looks of it, you won’t be needing him much,” Castiel said, glancing around to the emptiness of the diner.

“Fine,” John said. “But we need to talk first. Dean, come to the kitchen.”

“Dad-” Dean spoke up for the first time since John had come out.

“Now, Dean,” John said, and Dean seemed to find himself unable to do anything but raise.

“Dean, wait,” Castiel said, grabbing his wrist as he also rose. “You don’t have to go.”

“Yeah, I do.” Dean gave Castiel a pained smile. “I’ll be right back.”

“Dean…I’m sorry.” He wished he could say more, but he didn’t dare, not with John right there. He wanted Dean to understand he hadn’t realized that it could be this bad, that what he said could actually have very real and terrible consequences for Dean. And now all he wanted to do was to keep Dean safe.

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not,” Castiel said, stepping between Dean and John, his inner Alpha beginning to roar as he attempted to make himself as big as possible to intimidate John. It wasn’t difficult for Castiel. He may have channeled much of his temper into his cooking, but he was still a member of a very old and powerful family, full of prestigious and potent Alphas. “John, if there is something you want to say to Dean, I think you can say it in front of all of us,” he growled. “I can’t help if I don’t see and hear everything. Or is there something you want to hide?”

John stood there, staring down at Castiel, assessing him. But Castiel wouldn’t back down, not even a little, not for Dean. He was still holding Dean’s wrist, but he maintained a very even grip on it, almost subconsciously making sure not to harm Dean in the least bit.

Then John moved his gaze over to Dean, and instead of fire, it now seemed like ice. A calm, calculated fury. Castiel sensed Dean stiffen next to him, felt the twitch of the arm where he was holding onto his wrist. Castiel held onto it tighter, hoping to give Dean some form of support.

“Oh, I see,” John said, addressing his son. “I figured something like this was going on.” He glanced briefly over at Castiel, before returning his eyes on Dean. Castiel just rose a questioning eyebrow at him. “You’ve just been making eyes at him, dropping a few hints, and now you’ve got him falling all over himself to seem better in your eyes, aren’t you Dean?”

“No, sir, I haven’t done anything like that,” Dean tried to defend himself.

“Indeed he hasn’t,” Castiel confirmed. “Dean has been nothing but courteous towards me and my crew. It is you who has been rude and disrespectful, John.” He glared John down for real now, and this time John seemed to realize he was being serious about this. “Dean has talent and passion, and if it wasn’t for him we wouldn’t even be here, because you’re too prideful to admit you’re struggling to keep this place alive. You should be proud to have him as your son,” Castiel said, looking over at Dean, who blushed, but met his eyes, his own shining like there were stars in them. He’d never looked more beautiful.

“Now go,” Castiel snarled at John. “Go to your kitchen. I will stay here.” He turned to Dean. “Would you like to stay with me? I’d like to talk to you a bit more.”

Dean nodded, a blush still covering his face. “Yeah, I think I would.”

“Dean-” John began.

“No,” Castiel cut him off. “If Dean wishes to stay here, he should be allowed to. It’s not like he’ll be much use to you in the kitchen without any customers, now will he? So you  _ will  _ let him stay.”

John was growling underneath his breath, his eyes and scent aflame, his body tense and his breathing heavy, as if gearing up for a fight. But Castiel could tell that he wouldn’t go through with it. He just wanted to put on a show. It was likely John wasn’t used to his authority being challenged like this, so it was all the more difficult for him to accept it when it came, but he could also tell Castiel was younger, stronger and smarter than him. He was the superior Alpha in every way, and John wouldn’t be a match for him. Even if this was John’s domain, he also had to think of perhaps losing it altogether if Castiel got too angry and walked away as a result.

So, for now, John made himself swallow his pride, and strolled off to the kitchen with a gruff “fine.”

When he finally left the room to return to the kitchen, it was like everyone else present took a huge collective breath of relief. The agitated air finally departed with John, and everyone’s tense shoulders drooped as they were able to let themselves relax. Dean more than anyone looked as if he had just dodged a bullet. Perhaps he had.

“Come, let’s sit down,” Castiel spoke to him gently, leading Dean to the booth, where they sat on opposite sides.

“I’m gonna go back to the hotel, take a nap, you know,” Charlie said to Cas, and Castiel was ashamed to realize he had pretty much forgotten she was still in the room. She was giving him a sly look. “You know, give you two some privacy.”

Castiel huffed out a short laugh. Charlie wasn’t always present when he interviewed the people they came to help more thoroughly, being there more for Castiel’s emotional support and to provide her own insight and ideas to solve the problems, but it was clear that this time around she had very specific reasons to leave Castiel to talk to Dean alone. But even though her motives may not be quite pure, he thought it was probably a good idea this time around. He had a feeling Dean would be more reluctant to speak the more people were present. Thankfully, Dean seemed to for the most part be able to ignore and forget the presence of the filming crew and the cameras. Perhaps it was cruel, but Castiel could see that Dean would be the one that would bring the customers back to Mary’s. He would become the new face of the place.

“All right,” Castiel told Charlie. “Just be back in time for the dinner service, all right? I need you here.”

Charlie smiled. “Of course. You know I won’t miss it.” She turned to give Dean a smile as well. “Bye, Dean. I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah, bye,” Dean said, giving her a small wave in turn.

Then it was just the two of them, and the silence was suddenly about ten times more awkward. Castiel only hoped he was able to keep his nervousness out of his scent, though he was comforted by the fact that Dean’s also indicated anxiety.

Finally, Dean broke the silence with a sigh.

“So,” he said. “Now you know what my Dad is like.”

“Indeed I do,” Castiel agreed, his tone sympathetic. “He seems to be one stubborn bastard. And he clearly doesn’t see your value.”

Dean snorted. “That’s putting it lightly,” he said. “I didn’t mention it before, but this was actually supposed to be my place one day.” He looked around the diner, his eyes wandering and his gaze seeming to touch every corner of it in the matter of seconds. Like he was intimately familiar with it.

“Oh yeah?” Castiel asked, raising a single eyebrow.

“Yeah,” Dean sighed, looking down at his hands on the table between them. “I pretty much grew up here. I would come here every day after school and sit at this very table, doing my homework, before my Dad would pick me up after his work shift ended. And Mom would always make me something to eat for a snack while I waited. When I was done with the homework, I tended to go in the kitchen and just…watch her cook. It was mesmerizing, the way she just took control over everything that happened in the kitchen, the way I could see the food form before my eyes. And in here, I could watch while the customers ate, how much they enjoyed the food and how happy it made them to taste something so familiar and yet so unique.” He had a nostalgic look in his eyes as he spoke these words. “Eventually, once I grew a bit older, my Mom would start showing me how to cook certain things, both here and at home. I’d make meals at home so Mom wouldn’t have to cook in the diner and for her family every day, and sometimes she’d even let me help her in the kitchen here. We always talked about how this was her legacy to me, how I would start working under her once I got out of culinary school and then eventually inherit the place when she retired. But then…”

“Then, she got into the accident.” Castiel nodded gravely. “Could you tell me a bit more about that? What it was like afterwards? But only if you are amenable.”

“No, it’s okay, I can tell you,” Dean said, though his eyes looked a bit glassed over. He took a moment to compose himself. “When Mom died, it…it felt like the whole world was falling apart. She was the center of our family, you know? We all relied on her so much, she was the one who seemed to bring all of us together. And with her gone, everything was just…broken, wrong. Dad especially just fell apart. At first he couldn’t even get out of bed.” Dean sighed. “I was in culinary school at that point. It was like a dream come true when I got accepted. It was good too, I was learning so much and having such a good time, but…then I got the call. About what had happened to Mom. I rushed back home. And while I was on my way here, I just knew. I knew I wouldn’t be going back there anymore. I would have to stay to look after Dad and Sammy.”

“Sammy?” Castiel asked.

“My little brother. He’s away at college now. Stanford, actually.” Dean smiled, clearly proud of his brother’s accomplishments. “He was just a teenager when Mom died, and since Dad wasn’t up for doing pretty much anything, I did what I could to make sure he had lunch to take for school, did his homework and so on. In the meantime, I tried my best to get Dad to eat something too, tried to make him at least take a shower once in a while. But he was a mess, hardly even budged. Then I’d come here, trying to make sure everything was still up and running even without Mom to run it.”

“So it all just pretty much fell upon your shoulders? You had to take care of everything and everyone?”

Dean shrugged. “I guess. I did what I could.”

“No, Dean,” Castiel reassured him, and without thinking took a hold of Dean’s hand over the table. “It must’ve been an enormous burden, to go from a carefree student to suddenly being the caretaker for your family and your mother’s business.” He said. “And I’m guessing you dropped out of culinary school, too?”

“Yeah,” Dean sighed. “I put it off as long as I could, but in the end I had to face reality. Dad was getting better, but not enough so that I would’ve been comfortable going back and leaving him and Sammy alone. So I had to quit school. I figured I wasn’t losing much; after all, I always thought I’d inherit the diner and I already knew the place in and out from everything Mom had taught me. And for a while, I did. I tried my best to follow in my Mom’s footsteps, to keep this place going and take my place as its leader, but…” he trailed off

“Your father?” Castiel guessed.

“Yeah,” Dean nodded sadly, his tone pained. “It was as though one day he just woke up, like from a dream or something. I told him I was going to the diner. A few hours later, I was here, and he arrived and practically threw me out of the kitchen, saying that it was now his responsibility; that he was taking over everything and would preserve Mom's legacy.” Dean shook his head. “It’s been downhill ever since. I know I didn’t finish culinary school, but at least I had some training and I know how to cook, and I know this place too. Dad had no interest in it whatsoever until Mom died, and he’s not that great of a cook anyway. But he just can’t let go of it, I think because it would be like letting go of Mom, like forgetting all about her. But if this keeps on going the way it is now, we’ll lose the diner anyway.”

“Dean,” Castiel said seriously. “Listen to me. I swear I won’t let that happen, all right? Now that I know what this place means to you, what you’ve sacrificed to keep it and your family going, I swear I will do everything I can to save it. I won’t let your mother’s legacy die away, Dean.”

“Thank you,” Dean gasped, his voice definitely a bit hoarse now, his eyes gleaming with unshed tears he seemed to be holding back. “I know it’s weird but…it feels like a part of her is still alive here, you know? I don’t want to lose that, too.”

“I think I understand,” Castiel reassured him. “Your mother lives on in the memories you have of her in this place. So of course you would feel like losing it would be like losing her all over again.”

“Yeah,” Dean said, his voice a bit shaky. “Is it weird to still miss her, even though it’s been three years already?”

“No,” Castiel hurried to tell him. “At least, not to me. I understand how you feel.” He sighed. “My Dad, my bearer…he passed away some ten years ago. And I still…I still sometimes miss him.”

“I’m sorry,” Dean said, putting one of his hands over Castiel’s. They were warm and comforting to hold. “Were you two close?”

“Yeah, I suppose we were,” Castiel replied. “He often seemed to be the only one to encourage me with cooking just for the sake of myself. Everyone else in my family wanted me to pursue cooking simply because it was such an ambitious goal to work towards, owning my own restaurant and all that. They probably looked at the whole deal with money signs in their eyes. But not Dad. He wanted me to pursue cooking simply because he realized how much it meant to me, personally. He just wanted to see me achieve my dream because it would make me happy. So I would often talk to him about it. We would talk about a lot of things, actually.”

“May I ask, how…?”

“Cancer,” Castiel replied. “He’d had it once when I was still a pup. The first thing I cooked was actually chicken soup for him when he was recovering, did you know that?” Dean shook his head, eyes alit with concentration. “The cancer came back when I was in my twenties, and that time it wasn’t going away. He just got worse and worse, and in the end, there was just nothing anyone could’ve done.” He sighed. “Dad, he…he was a kind man, and a loving father, but he was also quite frail, both emotionally and functionally. I think in the end, he was just happy to be able to find relief from the pain. He’d lost his fighting spirit. But at least…at least we got to say our goodbyes before it was his time.” His eyes were stinging now, his breathing coming out a little uneven. He rubbed at his eyes with his hand. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me…”

“No, no, you don’t need to apologize,” Dean said, squeezing at Castiel’s hands. “I know how it is. Sometimes, it’s just easier to vent and talk to a stranger. I certainly can’t really talk about Mom to Dad.” They both snorted out sad laughs together.

“Well, we still have a few hours before dinner service starts,” Castiel said. “If you wish to trade stories until then…I’d be more than happy to listen.”

Dean smiled then, and it seemed to almost blind Castiel with its beauty and charm. Dean’s scent seemed to become sweeter with joy as well, and Castiel had an almost overwhelming urge to stick his nose into Dean’s neck. He felt himself blush, hoping Dean couldn’t smell his effect on Castiel too obviously.

“I think I’d like that, Castiel,” Dean said.

Castiel waved the filming crew away for now, as this wasn’t going to be relevant for the episode. They all went their own way, promising to return to film the dinner service.

Once they were gone, Castiel said to Dean, “You can call me Cas, if you like.”

Dean smiled again. “Okay then…Cas.”


	3. Chapter two

Castiel and Dean ended up talking for hours on end, about basically everything. It was one of those talks that seemed to just go on forever, that came easily and where nothing needed to be hidden or no games needed to be played. Not only did they talk about their respective bearer parents that they had lost, but also about their brothers (Castiel was decidedly jealous that Dean had only one younger brother as opposed to four older ones) and their Alpha parents (Dean was reassured that he wasn’t the only one with an overly controlling Sire). Castiel told Dean about his days in the New York society, how shallow, pretentious and meaningless he had always found it, even if it did give him some great connections to his future clients. But even that had felt weird, as if he had been deceiving them, trying to appear and make nice with them when all he had wanted to do was just so sit in the corner reading. Dean in turn shared stories about the diner, about some of its most memorable customers and what had been his favorite out of everything his Mom had ever cooked (a home-made bacon cheese burger, prepared from scratch). He also shared some of his experiences about culinary school, and how leaving it had been especially hard because Dean had had to leave behind all his new friends and a boyfriend that hadn’t been able to handle the distance between Lawrence and Kansas City, and hadn’t really understood Dean’s loyalty to stay with his family when he could’ve been thinking of his own future. Castiel was quick to reassure him that Dean would certainly find someone better.

“Will I though?” Dean asked, almost to himself, without thinking about it. “I mean, I never expected to make it out of Lawrence or anything, since I was gonna take over the diner and everything, but man, do I sometimes feel like I’m just stuck here. I can’t even get an apartment of my own because we can’t afford it, and I’m here day in and day out, so it’s hard to meet anyone. Sometimes I just feel…” he shook his head. “I just feel like I have so little life outside of this place anymore, you know? Like it would almost be a relief if we went bankrupt, because then I wouldn’t have to work so much and be alone so much. I think it’d be easier if I could actually cook here, since making the pies is pretty much the only thing that gives me joy here, but all I do is wait for customers and try and make myself busy around the place. And man, I would like to raise a family at some point too. I used to think I wanted to have a big family too, like five pups or something, but here I am, just letting all my best years roll past me, working towards a goal that sometimes I feel like doesn’t even exist.” He paused. “Sorry, I’m rambling, that was probably way too much information…”

“No, it’s all right,” Castiel said, trying very hard not to think about Dean and five pups that would have his freckles and clear green eyes, with a bit of dark hair mixed in there too… “It is hard not to let the business run your life, especially in a situation like yours. It’s really not fair you have to carry so much of the burden by yourself. My Dad actually worried a lot about me being completely swept away by my work as well. His dying wish was basically for me not to shut myself away from people and not throw myself into my work and dream all the time. He desperately wanted me not to be alone in life.”

Dean raised a curious eyebrow. “Did he want you to find someone? Have a family?”

“I think only if I really wanted it for myself. He just didn’t want me to be all alone in the world, without friends or anything. And I have thankfully avoided that. I imagine my social circle will always be somewhat small, but I do have several close friends.”

“But no one special yet? No one the press hasn’t heard about yet?”

“No,” Castiel said, but squeezed Dean’s hands almost meaningfully, looking him deep in the eyes, leaning a bit closer. “No one quite yet.”

There was something there, between them. Castiel could feel it. And he was almost certain Dean could feel it too, the way they found it so easy to be around each other and talk to one another. The way their scents seemed to mix together into a perfect blend of home and safety. It was intoxicating and inviting, and Dean was so beautiful and wonderful, inside and out. Castiel had never been drawn to anyone like this before. Yet he knew he couldn’t tell Dean, not now. He was here to help, and he didn’t want John to think any more than he already did that Castiel’s preference for Dean over him was caused by anything more than what he could see in skill, passion and personality. He also didn’t want to put Dean in an uncomfortable position, to make him feel like he possibly owed Castiel something he may not be willing to give for his help. So, he had to wait until he had done all that he could for the Winchesters and their diner, before doing anything about any of this. For now, though, he was just happy to be in Dean’s company.

The evening eventually began to roll around and Dean had to excuse himself to make sure everything was in order for the dinner crowd. Castiel watched him work around the diner until Charlie and the filming crew returned. Charlie of course demanded all the details about Castiel’s talk with Dean. Castiel made sure to keep what he said professional, not mentioning anything about the more private things he and Dean had spoken about. Other than that they had talked for a quite long time.

“Spoilsport,” Charlie pouted, but Castiel felt he could live with that.

Dinner crowd began to roll in, the word having gotten out that Mary’s was hosting some distinguished guests as well as a filming crew. Castiel and the filming crew went over to the kitchen to follow how John managed the dinner service, while Charlie stayed in the diner proper to observe how the customers would feel about the evening.

Castiel was worried even before the night had really started. Could Dean handle this many people all by himself? But Dean reassured him they had part-time waiters who came to work if there was a bigger crowd, and he was quickly joined by two others to help out.

However, despite the added wait staff, who were all quick on their feet and brought in the orders to the kitchen with an admirable swiftness, the dinner started slow almost right away. It was almost as if John was dreamwalking in the kitchen, not really concentrating on what he was doing half the time. And there was just far too much for him to do all by himself it seemed, with no sous chef or anyone to help him.

“Wake up, for heaven’s sake!” Castiel tried to rouse him. “We’ve barely started the dinner service and you’re already falling behind!”

“Don’t yell at me in my own kitchen,” John growled at him, taking out a platter of fries that he had put in the oven from the freezer.

Dean came into the kitchen. “Dad, do you need any help? I can give you a hand if you need me.”

“How many times do I have to tell you, Dean? This is  _ my  _ kitchen. You just go do your job and let me do mine.”

“Hey, don’t talk to him like that, you hear me?” Castiel said firmly. “Especially when it seems like he’s the only one who’s actually got a clue about anything in this place!”

“Will you just shut the fuck up already?!” John screamed, finishing up the first plate of food to be retrieved. “Take that.”

“Dad, you know I have to wait until the rest of that table has their food too-”

“I said take it!”

“Okay,” Dean mumbled, taking the plate.

“Don’t yell at your son. He’s just doing his job, like you told him to do just seconds ago,” Castiel yelled. “Get a grip and do yours!”

“What the hell do you think I’m doing?!” John screamed back, stirring his beans.

“I think you’re just falling apart. And I also think you’re not entirely sober.” It was true. John had had a lingering smell of alcohol sticking to him since the moment Castiel had met him, but it had only grown stronger between the lunch and the dinner services. “You’re a disgrace to chefs everywhere!”

John didn’t seem to care about anything Castiel was telling him, and didn’t confirm nor deny whether or not he was inebriated or not. Still, he also didn’t seem to be getting a grip. The food kept on being slow, and much of it seemed to be store-bought or otherwise not entirely fresh. All of the waiters at one point or another came to ask how long it would take for the food for some of the tables to be ready. And after the food had gone out, much of it was sent back, with the customers reporting the same problems Castiel had earlier that same day.

“They said it was very greasy and bland.”

“The salad had way too much dressing on it, it was practically swimming in it they said.”

“The chicken was very dry and hard to swallow according to the customer.”

Finally, some of the customers grew tired of waiting for their food to arrive, and after hearing the others around them say not-so-gracious things about it anyway, they decided it wasn’t worth it to wait and decided to simply walk out.

The night finally came to its end, but it was painful. In a way it was a relief for the torment to be over, but it had been so terrible overall that even it ending left a bad aftertaste in one’s mouth. It made one wonder what the whole point of it was, why it had to be like this.

“What a disaster!” Castiel exclaimed right off the bat once he had everyone assembled after the last of the customers were gone. “The night was a complete mess! Food wasn’t going out, and when it did, most of it was sent back!” he turned to speak to John specifically. “Is this how you mean to run the place?”

“No, absolutely not.”

“Really? Because I don’t see you trying to make it any better,” Castiel said. “You’re running this place to the ground with what you’re doing! Not to mention, you cooking after drinking is hazardous both on yourself and everyone else in here!”

“Dad!” Dean yelled out suddenly, looking shocked and angry all at once. It surprised Castiel. It was the most emotion Dean had ever shown against his father so far. “You said you weren’t gonna do that anymore! You promised!”

“So this isn’t a random occurrence?” Castiel asked.

But just as Dean began to nod, John cut in, “I’m not drunk.”

“But you’ve been drinking,” Castiel argued. “You’re not working with me here. You panic in the kitchen, and that’s not good, because if you do, the kitchen controls you. And that can’t happen, ever. And frankly, I don’t see you opening to change anything about yourself, even for the sake of your wife’s memory.” John’s eyes gained that fire of anger again, and he looked ready to lash out, but Castiel ignored him. “That’s why, tomorrow, we’re going to do things a little differently. For now, you should all get some rest. We have lots to do in the morning.”

Everyone began to get ready to leave, but Castiel stopped Dean. “May I have a quick word with you in private, Dean?”

Dean blinked, but said, “Of course,” and let Castiel lead him to a corner to whisper a bit.

“Tomorrow, I want to start making your mother’s will, her real will, happen in this place. In other words, I’m making you the new head chef.”

Dean’s eyes widened. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Castiel said. “You’re the only one here I’ve seen who I believe can do it. Hell, you’ve already done it once. The only problem there was that it was cut too short. I know you can cook, and I can tell you have the passion to cook as well.”

“Dad will never agree to it.”

“I’ll lock him in the walk-in fridge if I have to,” Castiel half-joked, and Dean let out a short laugh. “There’s something you can do to help me convince him, however. That was the other thing I wanted to talk to you about. If it’s not too much trouble, I’d like for you to go shopping for ingredients tomorrow. We’ll get a new special on the menu; your old favorite from your mother, the bacon and cheese burger. Buy the ingredients for it, fresh this time, and cook it for us. We’ll taste it when we come in. Do you think you can do that?”

“Yeah, absolutely,” Dean nodded.

“Good,” Castiel hesitated, then put his hand on Dean’s shoulder in a comforting manner. “This is your chance to show what you’re capable of, Dean.”

Dean looked him right in the eye. There was a determined glint in his gaze. “I won’t mess it up.”

“I know you won’t.”

…

The next morning, when Castiel arrived with Charlie and John at Mary’s, there already was something in the air that had been missing the day before. It was the smell of something delicious and fresh cooking, accompanied by the sounds of something frying.

“Dean?” John yelled to the direction of the kitchen. “That you?”

“Yeah, I’ll be right out, just wait a moment!”

John turned to Castiel. “This your idea?”

“Just wait until you taste it,” Castiel said, taking a seat on one of the stools around the counter this time around, not feeling like sitting in a booth with John. “You should have more faith in your son, John.”

“And you should open your eyes,” John scoffed. “He’s just put you under his spell with a little bit of fluttering eyes and sweet smiles. It’s what he does.” He murmured something that Castiel couldn’t entirely hear, but that sounded rather suspiciously like ‘little Omega slut.’

“Hey!” Charlie stepped in, her scent flaring up in anger. “I happen to be strictly into the ladies, so there’s no attraction here whatsoever, and I agreed that the apple pie was delicious and that whatever is cooking over there right now smells ten times better than anything you made last night!”

“And do you really believe I can’t separate any sort of attraction I might have for Dean from my professionalism and knowledge of food?” asked Castiel. “Because let me tell you, you’re making what I am about to do that much easier with everything you say,” he growled. “And may I ask: did you call your own wife a slut just because she was an Omega just like Dean? Or was she just so saintly in your eyes that she was the exception to every rule for you?”

John was getting increasingly red in the face, turning almost purple. But before he had a chance to say anything in retort, Dean arrived, carrying two magnificent-looking and huge burgers on a tray. Castiel had to wonder if he had heard the argument and arrived just at the right time because of that, or if it was just too good of a coincidence.

“What’s this?” John asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Something I hope will help open your eyes,” Castiel said as Dean set the burgers down in front of them. “Thank you, Dean.” Dean gave him a hesitant smile, before Castiel spoke to John again, “Dean told me this used to be the favorite recipe his mother used to make for him. I thought it was time it made it to the menu. We’ll make it the special tonight.”

“So why am I only hearing about this now? Why didn’t I cook this?”

“Because I don’t think you’re really a chef,” Castiel said. “You’re just someone chasing a ghost. And I don’t think you can handle a kitchen. So tonight, I’m giving control to someone who I think _ can _ handle it.” He turned to Dean. “And I let that person to cook this to show he is capable of doing it.”

“What?!” John gasped, abruptly turning to Dean. “Him?!”

Castiel nodded calmly. “Dean has got experience, both from culinary school, from working here and even running it right after your wife died. He actually has skill and the passion to match it. He wants to make this place a success. And I think it can be, as long as Dean is running it.” He smiled gently in Dean’s direction, who gave him a nervous smile in return.

“He’s just a kid!”

“I’m 24, Dad. I’d hardly call that a kid anymore,” Dean stepped in. He seemed to consider something a moment, but then burst out with, “Aren’t you always saying I’m getting old and no Alpha is going to want me much longer? So what are you basing it on that I’m not old enough to work in the kitchen?”

“And for the record, I’ve worked with people even younger than Dean, who have been both talented and passionate chefs. I was working in a kitchen at his age too. His age is not the issue here.” He looked straight at John, frowning at him. “No, I think it’s other things you’re letting to get in the way.” Prejudice, for one. But likely also John’s own pride was preventing him from stepping down and giving his son a chance to succeed instead.

“Dad…” Dean began. “I want to do this. For the diner, for Mom. You know this is what we always planned.”

“It wasn’t supposed to happen yet,” John mumbled, sounding and smelling calmer. There was only sorrow there now.

“I know,” Dean said, “but it’s happened, and we need to learn to live with it. I’m not saying we need to forget Mom, but we do need to make changes around here, learn to cope with change. Just…at least taste the burger, before making any further judgement?” He looked at his father with big, pleading eyes.

John looked right at him for a long time, and Castiel almost forgot to breathe for a while, so anxious was he. He would argue for this until his last breath, but he knew it would never stick unless John agreed to it himself first and foremost. Right now, John’s scent was a myriad mix of emotions, so it was difficult to tell exactly what he was thinking. So all Castiel could do was wait, knowing everything hung on this moment.

Finally, John broke eye contact with his son, sighing. “Fine,” he said, picking up the burger. Castiel turned to his own, splitting it in half and handing Charlie the other half. They all took bites of them.

No matter what John had to say, Castiel found the burger excellent. The bun was thick and crunchy, clearly baked from scratch, the steak moist and tasty, with the cheese melting in his mouth and the bacon creating a crispy, salty contrast to the fresh lettuce and tomato. It was one of the best burgers he had ever tasted, and he had eaten a lot of burgers in his time. He couldn’t help but moan a little around the mouthful.

“Delicious,” he said to Dean after swallowing. “Absolutely delicious, Dean.”

“So good!” Charlie groaned, not even bothering to fully swallow before going for more in her half.

“Dad, what do you think?” Dean asked carefully from John, who was slowly chewing his mouthful, before swallowing.

“…it’s like the way your Mom used to make,” John said quietly. He didn’t say anything more, but Castiel knew they had his approval for Dean to work the kitchen tonight.

…

They called in one of the part-time waiters to cover for Dean, while Castiel took Dean out shopping for fresh ingredients. Since Dean was in charge tonight, he had insisted, to Castiel’s great pleasure, that everything would be made from scratch and with fresh ingredients. John would help him with prep. Charlie stayed behind at the diner to, evidently, flirt with one of the waitresses.

Castiel let Dean shop using the show’s budget, so as not to use up any more of the Winchesters’ few resources. He also enjoyed getting to be out and about with Dean, looking at ingredients. Dean was alit with joy of getting to do this, clearly proud of his chance to prove himself and hoping to do as well as he could. The two of them didn’t talk much this time around, not like they had yesterday. They mostly discussed the ingredients, trading food stories, thoughts and tips on what tasted best with what. But it just made Castiel become more and more attracted to Dean to see him be so passionate about food. In a strange way, he felt like he had finally met his match. Who knew he would find them in a small diner in Kansas?

It also made him wonder, without him really not being able to help it. He liked Dean, he really did, all the more with every minute they spent together. He had never experienced this type of attraction towards anyone, he was sure of it. But what, exactly, was he going to do about it? He’d already decided he wasn’t going to do anything until the filming of the show was over, but what about afterwards? Castiel didn’t think Dean would be able to leave Kansas or the diner behind if it became a success again. Could Castiel leave his life in New York behind, all his friends, his business? If he decided to pursue Dean, would John forever accuse him of favoritism? Not to mention Dean was so much younger than he was. Their age difference wasn’t the biggest of mated pairs Castiel had seen, but it was definitely there. Castiel was about at the age where he really wanted to settle down and raise a family, but would Dean be ready for that already? He had mentioned he had wanted pups and was perhaps hoping to get to having them before he got too old, but how serious had he been about that, and was it just a plan he had once had but that had changed now?

Still, looking at Dean as he considered the different options of tomatoes, Castiel decided to for now just let himself enjoy the time he got to be with Dean. There was no point in overthinking this yet, when nothing had even happened. He couldn’t even be sure if Dean was feeling what he was feeling.

They went back to Mary’s and Dean and John began prepping the kitchen for the dinner service. Dean still looked incredibly happy, even while he was just peeling potatoes. He hummed tunes to himself once in a while, seeming to lose himself in the work. He looked so fulfilled, finally being able to do what he truly loved, what he truly wanted to do. John, on the other hand, while he was doing what he was supposed to, had an empty look in his eyes and he still walked around like a zombie. He didn’t smell of alcohol this time around, so apparently that was just his mood. Castiel, although he had hoped to get through to John, found he hadn’t quite wanted to do it like this.

Dinner rolled around, and right of the start, Castiel could tell everything was going much better than the day before. The waiters still got the tickets in fast, and with his Dad just helping him around in the way Dean and Castiel had shown him during prep, Dean worked and communicated in the kitchen well and fast.

“Good job, Dean, keep up the communication!2 Castiel encouraged him.

“Yes, Chef!” Dean called back, beginning to cook the meat for his burgers. The special that he’d prepared earlier today was a huge hit among customers.

“Don’t let quality suffer due to the time, make sure it’s worth it if the customers need to wait!” Castiel told him.

“I won’t!” Dean called back, working efficiently yet carefully. He was a bit slower at the start, probably rusty, but it was still faster than what John had done the day before, and none of his food was sent back.

Charlie popped into the kitchen quickly. “All I’m hearing are good thing so far!”

“Keep up the good work, yes?” Castiel asked Dean.

“Yes, Chef!” Dean called back, putting together the chicken sandwich he was working on. “Service please!”

Dean got into the groove very quickly, working with everything he had, tirelessly and passionately. It was like his soul was aflame with determination to do well. That was exactly what Castiel looked for in promising chefs. Passion couldn’t be taught, even where cooking could be. It had to come from within, and Dean had it. It was incredible to watch him in the kitchen.

The dinner was finished with a huge success, everyone leaving fed and happy, no food being sent back and Dean all smiles.

“What a difference!” Castiel said in the aftermath meeting. He smiled widely at Dean. “You shine in the kitchen, as I thought you would. You’re a little rusty, but once you found your rhythm, you did amazing. You should be proud of yourself, Dean.”

“I am,” Dean grinned at him, his eyes shining.

Castiel talked to John. “Do you now see why I made this decision?”

John just shrugged, and didn’t say anything. He seemed defeated, as if the whole world was weighing on him.

“All right, I want to talk to you alone, before you go,” Castiel said to John. “The rest of you, get some rest. There’s one more big day ahead tomorrow, and I’ll make sure it’ll be a busy one. Good night.”

Dean left a bit hesitantly, telling his Dad he would wait for him outside.

“Let’s sit down, John,” Castiel said, heading to sit down at one of the booths. John sat down opposite to him. “I want you to know, this is not a personal vendetta against you. I’m trying to do what’s best for Mary’s, since I’m here to bring it back to life. And you have to admit that Dean has what it takes. Hasn’t he proved that to you?”

“It’s not that,” John told him. “This place…it’s been everything I have since Mary’s passing. Now it looks like I’m going to lose that too. And what will be left of me after that?”

Ah. “You’ll still have your sons, your two smart, talented sons. You should value them and support them in their dreams. And everything doesn’t have to be over for you either. What did you do before you started cooking here?”

“I was a mechanic.”

“Did you like being a mechanic? Were you good at it?”

“Yeah. It was what I’d learned, it was what I wanted to do since I was a boy.”

“So why not go back to that, instead? Do something you’re good at, something you’re actually passionate about. And you need to understand,” Castiel leaned forward to stare John in the eye, “what being a mechanic was for you, cooking and managing this diner is for Dean. He’s wanted to be the chef here since he was little, and he’s good at it. I think it’s about time you let him stretch his wings and live his own life, make his own dreams come true, don’t you?”

John was silent for a moment. Then he nodded. “I’ll think about it. All of it.”

Castiel nodded back. “That’s all I ask. Not for my sake, or even the diner’s, but for Dean’s sake. He’s a good young man, and he has a future ahead of him, so long as he doesn’t let go of everything that is inside him that calls him to cook.”

John blinked. “You really are soft on him, aren’t you?”

Castiel blushed lightly, but didn’t let that deter himself. “Whether or not that is true, it doesn’t change what I’ve said. Dean has what it takes, I can see it in him.”

“...yeah, I know,” John admitted. “He’s his Mom’s boy. Always was.”

“Then as a father, I hope you’ll let him become all that he can be, and will support him in everything he does.” Castiel rose then. “I’ve said what I wanted to say. Think about my words, John. Good night.”

Castiel stepped outside the diner, leaving John sitting there. As expected, Dean was there waiting. He looked up as he heard the chime of the bell on the door.

“What did you and Dad talk about?” he asked.

“I just wanted to make sure John will let you try, but at the same time won’t fall apart in the aftermath.”

Dean nodded. His breath was misty in the cold night air. “I don’t think Dad really let himself grieve or get over Mom’s death. In some ways, he’s still in denial about it. Running the diner has been his method of running away from it, trying to cope.”

“I suspected that as well,” Castiel nodded, stepping closer to Dean. “And I hope I haven’t made a huge mistake with what I’ve done here, regarding him.”

“No, no, Cas,” Dean hurried to say. “You’ve done good. I don’t think…I don’t think I’ve been this happy in years, this excited about coming to work. And we do need to change in order to succeed, we can’t keep doing what we’ve been doing so far.” He looked right at Castiel. “I don’t like the idea of Dad becoming so lost in the loss of his occupation here, but…I also don’t want to keep on just being the waiter and the occasional pastry chef. I want to do more. And although it means the world to me to work at Mom’s diner, if I can’t be a chef here, I’m gonna do it somewhere else. I don’t want to be stuck doing the same old thing day after day forever.”

“And you shouldn’t have to be,” Castiel reassured him, putting his hand on Dean’s arm. “I can’t know what the future will hold for you, John, the diner, or anything. But I also don’t want you to become stuck. If I’ve been able to help you even a little, then I’ll be happy.”

“You have. Believe me, you have,” Dean said, placing a hand over Castiel’s. They stood there for a while in silence, just looking at each other.

“There’s one thing I need to ask of you before I let you go home. You can say no, or do whatever you want with what I say. But hear me out,” Castiel eventually said.

Dean raised an eyebrow. “I’m listening.”

Castiel explained his thoughts to him, and in the end, Dean nodded.

"Yeah, I think we should do that."

“Then you’ll do it?”

“Yeah, as soon as I get home, I’ll start working on it.”

Castiel nodded. “Go on home then Dean. Do what you must, but remember to also get some rest; I want you to be up and about for the reopening tomorrow. I need to remain here for now; I still have some stuff to do.”

“The make-over right?” Dean grinned. “I can’t wait to see it.”

Castiel smiled. “Then come back tomorrow, bright and early, to see it.”

John stepped out of the diner. “Let’s go, Dean.”

“Okay, Dad,” Dean said. “See you tomorrow, Cas.”

“Good night, Dean. And good luck.” Castiel smiled as the Winchester men left him alone to call his crew to work their magic on Mary’s.


	4. Chapter three

Castiel’s renovation crew worked tirelessly through the night to give Mary’s back most of its original shine and inviting air. Castiel watched over the progress, thinking of Dean the entire time. He couldn’t wait to see the expression on Dean’s face when he would see all this, and also was looking forward to seeing what Dean had come up on his own.

Early in the morning, Dean arrived with his father, and the part-time waiters came to see the relaunch of Mary’s as well. Castiel quirked an eyebrow because Charlie arrived together with the blond waitress, but decided to ask her about it later and not ruin this big day for the Winchesters.

“Wow, it looks amazing!” Dean gasped right when he arrived, thin folder underneath his arm. “It looks just like old times!”

Indeed, the front of the diner had been cleaned, shined and given a new coat of paint. The old lights had been replaced, so that the name of the place was once more blazing at the front and making it visible even in the dark.

“Because this is your mother’s legacy, we decided to simply restore it to its former glory, making only minimal changes to its appearance,” Castiel explained to the people gathered as well as to the camera. “Are you ready to see what’s on the inside?”

“Yeah!” Dean said, excited. John was silent, but there was something hopeful in his eyes and scent.

“Let’s go and see the inside then,” Castiel said, leading them there.

Dean seemed to be overcome with emotion as he stepped in. As on the outside, much of the diner had been kept the same, but the old red small tables were now steel-colored, and the booth tables light wood. The chairs and the booth benches had been kept their original red, but had been restored with new leather and given fresh stuffing. The walls had been painted a soft white to reflect the natural light from the large windows of the place, and the old plain grey floor had been turned the lightest of yellows, once more reflecting the natural light. The whole place seemed to be radiating warmth now, creating an inviting atmosphere all new, while still remaining true to its origins. Dean had covered his mouth with his hand, and couldn’t seem to be able to decide what to look at first. He also seemed to be holding back tears.

“Well, what do you think?” Castiel asked, hoping he had managed to achieve what he had been aiming at with the renovation.

“It’s…” Dean began, but had to take a few calming breaths before continuing. “It’s like you brought this place back to life.”

Castiel smiled. “I’m glad you feel that way. It was my intention,” he said. “But I also know I’m not the only one who worked hard last night.”

Everyone except him and Dean made curious noises and queries, so Castiel explained, “I asked Dean if he would like to create a new menu for Mary’s based on his mother’s recipes, as he will now be the head chef and probably knows those recipes better than anyone else.”

Dean nodded, taking his folder form under his arm, opening it and taking out a piece of paper. “This is what I came up with.”

He handed it to Castiel, who looked it over. Some of the dishes remained the same, such as the mac&cheese, but it had been modified to include some bacon bits. There were a few burger choices now, including the bacon cheese burger, but Dean had also kept the chicken sandwich. Finally, there was some chili sauce dishes, some fish and a chicken with a waffle.

Castiel looked up at Dean's expectant, nervous face and smiled at him. “Simple, but wholesome American. Beautiful, Dean. Bravo.”

Dean smiled, and then blushed when everyone began clapping, both for his new menu and the recreation and revival of Mary’s.

“Okay, everyone, we have a lot of work to do before the lunch shift, so get ready!” Dean finally said, clapping his own hands firmly together.

“I couldn’t have said it better myself,” Castiel said. “Especially when there are some important visitors coming today.”

He explained he had invited some of the most popular food bloggers and vloggers to come and visit Mary’s on its relaunch day to try out the place. Their reviews could make or break the place, and possibly bring in some new customers who were simply driving through Kansas. This made Dean smell slightly nervous, but also excited, and he and his father worked tirelessly through the day, prepping the kitchen and testing Dean’s new menu, which he cooked for the staff. Castiel also naturally got his share, and everything seemed to almost melt in his mouth when he ate it; it was so good.

Dean sent some of the part-time waiters to print out more copies of the new menu, and since everything seemed to be going smoothly around Mary’s, Castiel took a step back and decided to take this moment to talk to Charlie.

“Did I see wrong or did you arrive with one of the waiters this morning?” he queried.

“No, you saw completely right, and unlike you, I’m willing to admit that fully and gracefully.” Charlie sighed dreamily. “Her name is Jo, and she likes fantasy and horror novels and movies, video games and beer. Cas, I think I’m in love.”

“Charlie, you can’t be in love after only knowing her for a day.”

“Oh, like you’re not in love with Dean already?” Charlie smirked.

Castiel blushed, and coughed. “No, I’m not. That takes time.” He leaned closer to his friend’s face. “He is very wonderful, however.”

“Ha! I knew it! I knew you liked him!” Charlie exclaimed, though she thankfully at least remembered to keep her voice down. Her whole face was broken out in a huge grin. “Sooo…what’cha gonna do about it?”

“I will talk to him once we’re finished here tonight.” Castiel said. “Until then, I don’t want anything to complicate things further, and I want Dean to focus on his work, and his work only.”

Charlie frowned. “If he feels the same…do you know what you’re gonna do?”

“No,” Castiel sighed, but he looked her right in the eyes with determination. “But I know I can’t let him go without a fight. I’ve never felt like this about anyone, Charlie. This type of instant attraction, it’s…it’s completely new to me. It’s bizarre.”

Charlie’s smile was soft. “Well, you always did say you’d know when it was the right person. I think you’ve found the right person. And I’m not saying it’s gonna be easy; it might become hugely complicated…but just lemme know, do you think it would be worth it?”

Castiel thought about it. His family, his business, his friends, all that was his life in New York flashed over his eyes in seconds. Then he thought of Dean, thought of the loneliness he had been feeling for so long, thought about how empty life still felt, even when he had gained everything he had thought he had wanted out of it. He contrasted that with a thought of a house in a quiet neighborhood in Kansas. There was a tree growing in the yard, and a swing was hanging from one of its branches. The house had a porch, and children’s laughter rang everywhere inside. He himself was cooking in the kitchen. Dean was enjoying herbal tea around the table nearby. Tea because he was sporting a large belly. He was helping to clean up the messed face of a young toddler, while a slightly older toddler was eating her porridge. Dean might be on the way to work, or maybe he was taking it slow because standing around cooking made his back hurt.

And Castiel realized, that was what he wanted. No matter what the details would be like, even if he had to work to keep his restaurant in business all the way from Kansas, he would do it. He could look after the children while Dean worked at the diner. But if Dean wanted him, and wanted to eventually create a family with him, Castiel felt like the rest of it was just details. What truly mattered was that he and Dean would be together. Nothing felt more important.

So, he looked at Charlie and said, “Yes, I think it would be worth it.”

Charlie grinned, punching him lightly in the shoulder. “Then you need to go for it, and work towards getting what you want. That is, if Dean feels the same. Tirelessly pursuing someone who’s not interested is sorta not cool. But I don’t think you’re gonna have that problem, by the way Dean looks at you.”

Castiel smiled as well. “If he wants to be with me, I will do all I can to make him happy, to make us work.” With how much he worked towards everything that was important to him, Castiel couldn’t expect anything less from himself. Dean was worth at least as much effort as his dream as a chef, if need be.

“That's my boy!” Charlie smiled.

…

The evening service was full of buzz and excitement. The relaunch had been advertised in the local paper, and Mary’s was packed. There was going to be a lot of work to do, but Castiel had confidence that Dean could pull it off, nervous as he was.

Indeed, as soon as the night got started, Dean seemed ready to show his claws and talent off to the world once more. He made sure to keep the momentum of yesterday going, being careful but efficient with his work. He seemed to have gained some confidence from having succeeded yesterday, as he didn’t double-check everything he sent out. This made the process faster right at the start than it had been.

“Keep it up, Dean, you’re doing great!” Castiel called encouragement from the sidelines.

“Yes, chef!” Dean said back, stirring his chicken. He’d worked hard during the day to refamiliarize himself with cooking his mother’s recipes on the new menu, and it had helped him gain a whole new sort of excitement for the cooking process, being allowed to do something new and based around the menu he himself had put together. The food was leaving kitchen well on time, and none was being sent back.

Around an hour into the dinner service, Charlie popped her head in the kitchen from the dining area. “The food bloggers are here!”

Dean tensed, so Castiel said to him, “Just think of them as regular customers. You’ve been doing amazing, Dean, just keep on doing that and everything will be fine.”

Dean nodded slowly, determination slowly returning to his face. “Yes, chef.”

“Good.”

Dean kept on working, and indeed, once the food bloggers’ orders had come in, he didn’t cook them any different, although this time around he did double-check everything about the meals over. But right after, he got back to preparing the next order, not letting himself fall behind or lose his groove or nerves.

After a moment, Charlie popped in again. “The bloggers are loving the food!”

Castiel smiled, and turned to Dean. “Did you hear that? I knew you could do it!”

Dean was smiling seemingly from ear to ear, and a pleased hue of pink was spreading over his cheeks. He was incredibly beautiful like that. He didn’t seem to know what to say, so he just nodded quickly at Castiel, kept on smiling and went back to working.

The hours ticked on by, and Dean kept working tirelessly and efficiently through the whole dinner service, until it was finally time to be done for the night. He sighed as it was time to switch off, the nervous tension in his shoulders finally loosening.

“What a great night,” Castiel said openly to everyone in the final meeting. He turned to Dean. “You should be very proud of yourself. I gave you a challenge, and you did everything I asked of you, and more. I knew you could do this, and you proved me right.”

Dean blushed, but smiled, shrugging. “I was so nervous.”

“It’s okay to be, as long as you don’t panic. And you didn’t. You poured your nerves into your passion and you made something amazing happen.” He turned to talk to everyone else, but especially John. “I’ve done all that I can for you now. This place now has all the tools it needs to succeed, but only if you keep on doing what you’ve been doing the past few nights. And that means keeping Dean as the head chef, not only as a temporary replacement. I feel like that is the only way this place can stay afloat. But it is all up to you now, what you do with this place.”

“I understand,” John said, his voice quiet.

“Dad,” Dean spoke. “I want you to know that this is what I wanna do. I love cooking, and I love this place. I want to make it the best that I can. I want to keep on being the chef. But I also didn’t mean for all of this to hurt you this much.”

John just shrugged. “I’ll be all right. And I don’t want this place to die. I guess I was kidding myself, thinking I could run it.”

“You’re just not a chef,” Castiel said, his tone gentle. “But there are other things for you out there, things I know you can be great at. Thing you even have been great at. But sometimes, you need to admit you’re not cut out for everything in the world. It may not be easy, but it needs to be done.”

John nodded. “I know.”

Castiel nodded back. He still couldn’t be sure if John was really going to be all right with everything that had happened, but today was his last day here, and this was something John would have to sort out alone with his family. It was no longer Castiel’s business, and he shouldn’t get more involved in it than he already was. He was here to only fix restaurants; he couldn’t fix a broken man’s heart or life.

“It’s time for us to go now,” Castiel said, gesturing to Charlie. “So I want to say goodbye.”

There were murmurs of _thank yous_ and _goodbyes_ amongst the people. Charlie went off to the side to talk to the blond waitress, and the filming crew began putting away their equipment.

Castiel knew now was his time and chance, and that he may not get another one. “Dean, may I speak to you in private please?”

Dean looked up, blinking. “Uh…sure.”

They put on their coats and went to the backyard of Mary’s to get some privacy.

“Dean,” Castiel began, stepping close into Dean’s personal space. Dean was measuring his face with his big, expressive eyes. “I’ve always been a very straightforward man, and I have never really mastered the art of subtlety. Therefore, I feel I must simply say what I came out here to say, and not beat around the bush.” He looked Dean right in the eyes. He wanted to take his hand, but didn’t dare, in case this didn’t go the way he hoped it would. “Dean, I have feelings for you. Very, very strong feelings. And I want to know, am I imagining things when I say I also think you have feelings for me as well?”

“You’re not imagining it,” Dean said, a soft smile on his lips as he stepped even closer to Castiel and took a hold of his hand. “God, Cas…it’s been an insane ride. I’ve…I’ve idolized you so much, loved watching your show. I had this huge crush on you. And then when I realized there was not going to be a change at the diner unless I did something, I knew you were the only one who could put it back together again if there was any hope for it. And when you actually came here…” He shook his head, his eyes sparkling in the dim light of the lamps outside. “You were so incredible. You made this place come to life again. You stood up for me against my Dad. You liked my cooking, you thought I had talent. And you were so kind to me, taking time to actually talk to me…”

“Dean, I didn’t say those things just because I like you. I want you to know that. I was honest with what I said; I never lie or sugarcoat anything, even for the people I care about. You can ask Charlie, she’ll tell you.”

“No, I believe you. It’s easier to have faith in yourself when everyone seems to like your food.” Dean smiled. “Just…what are we gonna do now?”

“I don’t know for certain,” Castiel admitted. “But if you’re willing…I’d like for us to have a relationship. To try and make everything work between us. Because Dean…I’ve never felt so strongly for anyone as I do for you. I realize there are going to be challenges ahead, some of them more difficult than others, but I’m willing to work for this. I want to be with you, and I want to try and make you happy.” He put his available hand on Dean’s shoulder. “Would you let me try?”

“Yes, Cas. I would like that,” Dean smiled.

“Then…may I kiss you now, to start?”

“You even have to ask?”

“Always,” Castiel smiled, but then leaned over to kiss Dean. And right when their lips touched, Castiel swore it was like in all those romantic movies and novels he watched and read on the loneliest nights when he couldn’t sleep. It was like there was a real spark, a real pull. Something stronger than him or Dean that was pulling them together like magnets. Castiel wrapped his arms around Dean and Dean put his own around Castiel’s neck, opening his mouth and allowing Castiel to push his tongue in. Their scents mixed together into a beautiful blend that spoke of safety, home and everything right, but also of passion, longing and being complete after a long time. Dean’s lips were soft and his mouth tasted sweet, almost like honey. Castiel couldn’t get enough of him. Didn’t ever want to let go of him.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t an option as air became an issue sooner rather than later, and they had to part. Their eyes were locked together as they put some distance between their faces.

“Wow,” Dean said, his face flushed both from the cold and the kiss. Castiel could smell a touch of honey in his scent, and it made his mouth water. That had to be the smell of Dean’s arousal, his slick. He wanted to lick away at that smell. He himself was getting quite hard in his pants, and made sure to keep some distance between their lower bodies so he wouldn’t poke Dean. Although he was fairly sure that if he could smell Dean, Dean could also smell him.

“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” Castiel said, giving Dean’s freckled nose a light peck.

“What happens now?” Dean asked.

“Dean,” Castiel said, his tone suddenly serious. “I meant what I said. Truly. But I also still have commitments. We need to go shoot the second episode, and before that I need to talk to the producers about what to keep and what to cut from the one we’ve shot here. And I need to do that. I’ve made a commitment. So while I would love to stay here with you, and hate to leave you so soon…”

“You need to go, I get it,” Dean said. “I don’t like it, but I get it. And I think that I, too, need to just focus on making the diner great again, build up our clientele and work on my skills and confidence. But maybe we could…call sometimes, to start?”

“I think that’s a great idea,” Castiel smiled. “When we’re done shooting all episodes of the new season, I promise I’ll come back here, and then I’ll take you out on a proper date.”

“I’d like that,” Dean said. Then he pressed closer, so that his leg was touching Castiel’s erection. “Should I give you something to remember me by before you go?”

Castiel gulped, Dean’s wonderful scent almost overwhelming him, but he managed to keep his head. “No, Dean,” he said, firmly but gently. “I want us to do this right. And I don’t think it would be right for us to have sex without even going on a real date first. I want to really know you before we go that far. I don’t want us to rush into things.”

Dean shrugged, though he was smiling. “Suit yourself,” he said, stepping a bit backwards. “Can we at least kiss some more, though?”

Castiel smiled. “That we can do.”

And so they stood there, kissing in the cold night air, until Charlie got tired of waiting for Castiel to come back, and they had to depart. Castiel would be leaving early the next morning and Dean had to work at the diner, so as much as it pained them, they wouldn’t be able to see each other in the morning. So they merely exchanged phone numbers and final kisses and goodbyes.

“How often may I call you?” Castiel asked after he and Dean had put their numbers in each other’s phones.

“As often as you want, I guess. If I won’t bore you. Though call during lunch or later at night, since, you know, work.”

“I understand.” Castiel nodded. “And I doubt you could ever bore me, Dean.”

And that was it. Early the next morning, Castiel and Charlie left Kansas to go to Missouri for the second episode of the third season of _Diner Disasters_. But Castiel texted Dean when they boarded the plane, and when they landed, and told him about his experiences at the new diner he and Charlie were trying to help save. And he also saw Charlie sent out quite a few texts of her own, and smiling at what Castiel could only assume were replies to those texts.

It was a start of something wonderful. He just knew it.


	5. Epilogue

That was how the next few months passed for Castiel. He worked to give his help to other diners, and every chance he got he would text Dean about everything and anything in his day. Then at night they would talk for real on the phone, generally for hours. Charlie started to insist on her and Castiel having separate rooms because she couldn’t bear to listen to Castiel on the phone every night with all the sugar in his voice as he talked to Dean. As if she was any better with her new girlfriend Jo.

Dean didn’t text him back much, but he made sure to talk about Castiel’s day and texts on the phone, demanding further details as well as talking about his own day. He was being kept busy at the diner, and was working hard. The work was taxing, but Dean was happy to do it, and always seemed to satisfied, if exhausted when he talked about his day to Castiel. He was clearly glad to be able to do what he loved, instead of standing around every day, trying to come up with something to do while he waited for customers to arrive at Mary’s. The diner was also blooming, customers coming in every night and day now, finally bringing in some money as well. Much of the old clientele to the place had come back, but there were also many new ones who had heard of the place online. Some of the new ones were just passing through, others came from neighboring cities just to try it. Dean was thrilled about this.

Talking to Dean on the phone quickly became Castiel’s favorite part of the day. He couldn’t wait to talk about everything that had happened with him. Little by little, they started to talk about other things than their days, learning more about each other’s pasts and lives until the moment they had met one another. They learned more about each other’s likes and dislikes, allergies, friends and old teachers. Jo actually turned out to be a childhood friend to Dean, almost like a younger sister, which was why she sometimes agreed to help out at Mary’s. Her proper job was at her mother’s bar.

Castiel learned that Dean was allergic to cauliflower, he loved both  _ Star Wars _ and  _ Star Trek _ and constantly battled with himself over which one was better, and that although he had always known he wanted to follow his mother into the cooking world, he had also learned how to fix a car from his father. Castiel in turn told him of his kiwi allergy, that he hadn’t seen neither  _ Star Wars _ nor  _ Star Trek _ until he had become friends with Charlie, and that he still liked to run in his free time, as he’d done in high school.

Dean also began confiding in Castiel that he was getting more worried about his father every day. John seemed to have lost himself again now that he no longer had an active role in the diner. Dean had suggested John take over as manager, but John had brushed the idea off. He seemed to have regressed back to the state he had been before he had started working in the diner; many days, he didn’t even find a reason to get out of bed. Dean was trying his best to steer him in the right direction, suggesting John either look for work as a mechanic again or find a support group for those grieving for their mate, or both. But nothing seemed to be working, and John simply drank alone and dismissed his son.

Although Castiel felt bad that John was so lost, he also made Dean promise not to let John hold him back. This was his dream, and his mother’s legacy; he mustn’t throw it all away just because his father was feeling sorry for himself. Dean vowed he wouldn’t, although he admitted it was nice to have someone to talk to and vent about John to at the end of the day, because it tended to get exhausting to be his father’s constant caretaker and babysitter, when John didn’t seem to neither appreciate nor care much for Dean’s help.

Eventually, what Castiel figured afterwards had been only inevitable, happened. Over Dean’s phone call one night, Dean told him excitedly that John had signed over the diner to Dean for good, his name on the papers and everything. Dean was now officially the owner. John also told him he’d found a job, although he had been somewhat vague what the job was about. And although Castiel couldn’t be happier for him, he also had a very bad feeling this was only calm before the storm.

And so it was. Less than a week after John had signed the diner over to Dean, he disappeared from his son’s life for what seemed to be for good. Dean simply came home one day to find his apartment empty of everything belonging to John. There was only a single note left by John, a single line written on it:  _ “Dean, don’t worry about me.” _ No further explanation, and John’s old number had been disconnected.

Castiel wanted to go to Dean right then, but they were still in the middle of shooting the last episode of the season. But he promised he’d be in Kansas as soon as he could.

“Just having you talking to me like this helps,” Dean reassured him. He’d called the police, of course, but he told Castiel he had a feeling that they wouldn’t find anything, no matter how hard they looked. John had been in the marines, and was very smart when he applied himself. If he didn’t want to be found, he wouldn’t be found.

Finally, after a brutal separation from Dean for months, Castiel was able to go back to Lawrence for him. Dean’s sous chef would be taking over for an extended weekend, so Dean and Castiel could spend some time together, and Castiel could take Dean out on their date. That was, if Dean still wanted to go. John’s disappearance had clearly shaken Dean up quite a bit, and Castiel wasn’t sure if he would be in a mood to do anything but maybe talk and watch movies home. Not that Castiel would be exactly opposed to that either.

Dean had given him his address, so Castiel was meeting him at his apartment rather than at the diner where anyone could listen in on their conversation. Dean’s apartment building was in the shabbier part of town, the building slightly rundown and dirtied by time. But Dean himself after a few flights of stairs up was a sight for sore eyes when he opened the door.

“Cas,” Dean basically sighed, letting himself fall into the Alpha’s embrace. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Dean, I’m so sorry about what has taken place,” he said. “I swear I did not mean for this to happen.”

“No, Cas, it’s not your fault. You were just doing your job, one that I even asked for you to come here to do. And honestly, none of us could’ve seen this coming.”

Dean let him step inside to the apartment. It was a cramped, two-bedroom place with a small living room area and a tiny kitchen, all of it clearly more than a few decades old, but it was clean and maintained well, and the furniture gave it the same type of homely feeling that was always at the diner. Castiel had to wonder of everything Dean touched became so comforting and warm in their atmosphere.

Dean led him to the kitchen, to sit around the four-seat table that looked like it had been bought second-hand. It seemed natural for the two of them to sit around a table where people ate, since cooking and food were one of the things they had in common and what had initially bought them together. They were also used to sitting around a table from their earlier face-to-face talks.

“Have you heard anything about your father? Have the police found anything?” Castiel queried once they had sat down.

Dean shook his head. “No, nothing. But that’s pretty much what I expected anyway.” He shook his head, his eyes looking slightly glassed. “Without the diner to work towards, he was just…just lost. I don’t think he ever really got to properly grieve Mom. I don’t know if he even knows how. And without the diner, he just…” He sighed, rubbing over his face. Castiel took a hold of his free hand, which seemed to stabilize Dean some. “I guess he just couldn’t deal with being around here anymore, with all the memories of her and everything. So he just saw it better to leave, go find something somewhere else.”

“He had his family here,” Castiel murmured under his breath, his voice growly with frustration and sadness on Dean’s behalf. “He should’ve stayed.”

Dean shrugged. “Maybe it’s better this way. Maybe…maybe he just didn’t want to burden me anymore either. And he did hand over the diner to me officially before he went. I’m grateful for that at least.”

Castiel looked Dean in the eyes. “Is it better for you, that he’s gone? I won’t judge you if you feel that way, I could well understand why it would be…”

“I dunno,” Dean sighed. “In some ways it’s a relief not to have to so actively worry about him, and try and take care of him, you know? But I also still worry in a different way. About where he is, what he’s doing, if he’ll be okay…” He licked his lips, frowning. “But, Cas, I also wanna live, you know? And as long as he was here, being the way he was, I knew I wouldn’t be able to live my own life. And I want to. I think it’s about time that I get to do that.”

“It is, Dean, it is,” Castiel reassured him, squeezing his hand and covering their joint hands with his other one. “And you should live it. It should never have been your duty to look after your whole family in the absence of your mother. I’m sorry your father couldn’t deal with the loss in a better way, that in the end he couldn’t deal at all and that you now have to wonder where he’s gone, but…you also shouldn’t feel guilty for getting to finally live your own life. I think we’ve both learned that life’s short. We should seize it while we still can.”

Dean smiled then, somewhat cautiously. “That’s why I’m glad you’re here now. Because I really think I’d like for you to be a part of my life. That is, if you still want that too.”

“Dean,” Castiel began, looking Dean right in the eye. “I want nothing more.”

“…have you thought at all about the future? About what we’re gonna do if we wanna do this?” They hadn’t talked about the future on the phone yet.

“I have,” Castiel nodded. “I’ve put a lot of thought into it. And it won’t change, no matter how often I think of it.” He squeezed Dean’s hand with both of his. “I want to be here, with you. I’ve…I’ve been alone for so long, Dean. But with you, I don’t feel alone. Compared to that, everything else is just details,” he said. “I’ve been looking at apartments to rent to start with here in Lawrence, and been talking everything over with my staff. I will need to go back to New York from time to time, especially at the beginning, but I am going to hire people to help run my business so I can remain here as much as I can, and do most of my decisions over the phone and Skype.”

“But what about your friends? Your family?”

“You know I’m not that close to my family,” Castiel said. “And I can talk to my friends on Skype as well, and go see them when I go to New York. And honestly, I think Charlie will only be too eager to become my roommate here in Kansas as well, judging by the way things are progressing with her and Jo. She always says she’d follow me to the ends of the earth anyway.”

“But what if this…whatever this is between us, what if it doesn’t work out? I don’t want you to move out here and then feel guilty if you ended up moving for nothing…”

“That’s why I’ll only be renting to start with,” Castiel said. “We can take it as slow as we want, to properly spend some time together. If it doesn’t work out, I can simply call of my lease on the apartment here and return to New York. But, Dean,” he looked at Dean seriously and intensely. “I want to make it work. And I’ve never been afraid of taking chances. That’s the only way you can survive in the business world. And I want to take this risk for you, for us.”

Dean’s face began to slowly spread into a smile. “I really want you to stay. And I want this to work out.”

“Then I’ll stay,” Castiel vowed, “and we’ll do all we can to make sure it works out, together. Now,” He began to stand. “I believe I promised I was going to take you out on a proper date.”

Dean grinned. “Do you even know where to take me?”

“Do you think apartments were the only thing I looked into about Lawrence?” Castiel smirked, offering Dean his arm. “Shall we?”

Dean smiled, taking Castiel’s arm. So close, Castiel could easily smell his wonderful apple pie scent. “We shall.”

A year later, when Charlie gave that embarrassing best maid’s speech that she’d promised to give nearly two years previous when Castiel and Dean had first met, all Castiel could do was laugh with everyone else, his heart filled with joy and love more than any other day of his life as he kissed his new husband.

Life was good.

The End

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [A Recipe for Love Art Masterpost](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9082462) by [reaperlove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/reaperlove/pseuds/reaperlove)




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